She was a good liar
by Lizzybeth93
Summary: He was broken; but she could fix him.He was lost; but she could find him.He was unavailable; but she loved him. One-shot. Lisbon's POV. My first fanfic, so be nice


She was a good liar.

Contrary to his belief; she lied everyday and no-one saw through it. Or if they did they didn't say anything. Behind her emerald eyes she hid a world of emotion. Emotion that no-one was allowed to see. Barriers were put up because if she let anyone get close she knew that she would get hurt. She learnt from experience.

And yet somehow, without her noticing, he had slipped through the barriers and found his way to her heart. She had barely noticed it happening, she was in the middle before she had even realised it had begun…

She was in love.

She was in love with a man who was totally, utterly, completely unavailable for a thousand reasons. And yet none of them prevented her from feeling the way she did. The rules were her life and she adhered to them (mostly) and yet he could get her to break them (well, bend them a little.)

He'd once told her that she was translucent. He was wrong.

It was ironic really. The only lie she could convince him of was the only lie she wanted him to see through.

She wanted him to wrap his arms passionately around her and say 'Screw the CBI, screw Red John. I love you.'

But that was a fantasy, he never would say that, she saw it in his eyes every time Red John was brought up and it terrified her. Not the fact that he was going to kill Red John, she'd got used to that a long time ago. No, what terrified her was that it showed her the man she loved was never going to love her back.

She knew he'd never give up his endless quest for revenge. If she thought her heart was broken know the thought of what would happen to her when (she had come to think of it as inevitable) he got his revenge was, well…

She didn't like to think about that.

So, she lied to protect herself. She hid behind a fake smile, and every time his gaze met hers or they flirted her heart broke into another piece.

She lied because if she pretended she was happy then she could convince herself, for a few hours, that she was and that her heart was still intact.

But it wasn't.

Every time she entered her empty apartment the mask fell and she felt the full force of the broken heart inhabiting her chest. She struggled to find a reason not to break down. Most nights she found it: her team. They needed her to stay strong.

So did he.

She wouldn't let him break her because he needed her in his own messed up way. He was doing this to her and yet she still cared about him, loved him. He was breaking her whilst she tried to fix him.

Some nights it wasn't good enough. Some nights she stayed awake all night, her mind swarming with emotion.

But make-up can cover up so much these days: a blemish, a sleepless night, a broken heart.

She would never show it.

Ever.

As soon as she opened the door and set out for work the mask was firmly in place. He wasn't the only one who could do it. But she saw through his mask, saw him for who he was, why couldn't he do the same to her?

Maybe he did.

That thought hurt more than the thought of him being blind. Because if he could see how she felt but was ignoring it then he knew. He knew how much he was hurting her…

Killing her…

So she hoped he was blind, hoped he couldn't see. But one day that he would break through the mask and realisation would dawn on him.

She wanted him to see. She _needed_ him to see. She needed him to save her from drowning in her despair but he wouldn't, couldn't pull her out.

Sometimes she envied Rigsby and Van Pelt, sure they broke each others hearts but at least they knew how the other felt. They knew that they loved each other.

She could never have that. Because he was in love with a ghost, a memory the silver band constricted around his finger proved that.

Was it that hard for him to love her the way she loved him?

When she looked in the mirror she saw someone who was always so strong slowly breaking down. She was giving her heart up too easily but she couldn't help it. No matter ho tightly she held onto it, it was slipping through her fingers, he was pulling it from her grip.

No-one will see. No-one will ever see that her heart wasn't hers anymore.

She's been doing it so long it's become a routine: wipe her eyes, plaster on a smile and walk with her head held high. Because she was Theresa Lisbon.

And he broke her. Because he was Patrick Jane.

He was broken; but she could fix him.

He was lost; but she could find him.

He was unavailable; but she loved him.


End file.
